


Staring at Orion

by BadBadBucky



Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Instance of Homophobic Language, M/M, all that happens in flashback, someone gets pushed through a window
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 23:07:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20882171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadBadBucky/pseuds/BadBadBucky
Summary: Howard and Vince's plane crashes on their way to a gig. It just so happens they crash in the very jungle where Vince grew up.Howard had never seen Vince like this. Dialled in. Keyed up. Usually Vince was eight miles high. Lost in the clouds. Never touching ground. Right now, though, his feet were firmly planted. His eyes were piercing. Excited but not exuberant.“Just follow me, I know the area,” Vince said. Then he crept through the trees.





	Staring at Orion

**Author's Note:**

> Fictober Day 2  
Prompt: "Just follow me, I know the area."

_ Howard had never seen Vince like this. Dialled in. Keyed up. Usually Vince was eight miles high. Lost in the clouds. Never touching ground. Right now, though, his feet were firmly planted. His eyes were piercing. Excited but not exuberant. _

_ “Just follow me, I know the area,” Vince said. Then he crept through the trees. _

“There is no way we are going by boat again,” Vince said, “not after last time.”

“Well, if you held off on assaulting the crew members we would be fine.” Howard said.

“We both know I can’t promise that! Boat travel takes too long. I’ll get bored! Then I’m up on the bridge. I’m making casual inquiries about hair routines. Next thing you know, I’m all over the shop. Cuttin’ hair. I know I will. Come on Howard. Can’t we please fly? Then it’ll only take a few hours.” 

The only reason Howard agreed to travel by plane was that the gig was in an extremely remote area and was inaccessible by boat or car. The gig was a good one, and the Music Establishment had informed them in no uncertain terms that if they blew this gig there would be no more chances and the Boosh would really be done. 

There were no commercial flights anywhere near where they were going so Vince had called Gary Numan and asked if he could fly them. Gary was busy, but he arranged for one of his pilot friends to take them. They left a week early. They figured if there were no delays they could just hang around the village where the gig was being held for a few days then play, but if something did happen (as it almost certainly would) they’d have a bit of a cushion. 

When they arrived at the hangar Howard saw the plane they were taking and abruptly turned around to leave. Vince grabbed him and turned him back around, halfway frog marching him toward the small prop plane they would be taking to the gig.

“This is bad Vince. These planes are so much more dangerous. This is a disaster. I can’t do it.” 

“Howard. It’s gonna be alright. Gary said this guy was a great pilot. You’ve already taken your sleeping pill, you’ll conk out quick smart and before you know it we’ll be at the gig!”

It took Vince, the pilot, Rex Moose (a relation of Joey Moose, small world), and several other aviation enthusiasts hanging around the hangar to wedge Howard into the plane. It was quite a sight, 5 grown men trying to stuff a gigantic man into a tiny plane. Howard spread his arms and legs like a cat not wanting to go into a carrier. Eventually the sleeping pill kicked in and he went limp. Vince and the rest were able to carry him onto the plane and strap him into his seat. 

Everything was smooth on the takeoff. Vince was very excited. Rex had described their flight path and Vince was pretty sure they were going to be flying directly over the area in the jungle where he had grown up. There were a few distinct markers in the area and when Rex had shown him the map it looked like the right place. 

Rex had told Vince that he would wake him up when they were flying over his old home so he could look out the window, but until then, a little sleepy would be nice.

Hours later, Vince snapped awake. Alarms were screaming. Blaring. Beeping. The cabin was cold. The door to the cockpit stood ajar and Rex laid on the floor, unconscious. 

Vince whipped his head around. Not sure what to do. He covered his hands with his ears, as he tended to do when he got overwhelmed, only Howard had ever seen this more anxious side of him. Howard was still asleep. Howard would know what to do. Didn’t he have a pilot’s license? Or was that just one of his boasts that wasn’t true? What was he going to do? They were going to die. They were going to die. They were going to-

One of Vince’s many bags came off the rack and smacked him on the head. That jarred him out of his stupor. 

He had to focus. He wasn’t meant to be the panicky one! He was the one who saved everyone through very little effort. 

Vince unclasped his seat belt and stumbled over spilt luggage to get to Rex at the front of the little plane. 

He shook Rex’s shoulder. No response. He turned him over and saw that he was bleeding, there were shards of glass embedded in his face, he gasped a bit at that. A memory capering in the dark corners of his brain. He pressed it down, but knew that it would pop up later with a vengeance. He went to Howard’s seat and shook him, but he was out too. They may have dosed him a bit too heavily. He was alone.

Vince climbed over Rex into the cockpit of the plane. There was a large hole in the windshield. Papers and glass whirled around the cockpit and there was a burning electrical smell in the air. He’d never flown a plane. But he had helped Fossil fly a helicopter once. Surely there would be some transference? Perhaps there would have been had he or Fossil had any idea how to fly a helicopter and hadn’t managed to land the thing on a hippo’s back through sheer luck. 

Those little whining sounds couldn’t be coming from him surely? He could do this. He could do anything. He was instantly good at everything he tried. He was Vince Noir Rock N Roll Star! He told his brain cell to shut up as it started listing off all of the rock stars who had died in plane crashes. Planes were almost as dangerous as heroin for musicians. If they died on a plane Howard was never going to forgive him. 

Vince experimentally pressed one of the buttons, another alarm was added to the cacophony. The little shriek he let out was quite embarrassing but there was no one but him to hear it. He quickly pressed the button again and at least that alarm turned back off. 

They were still holding at a steady level at the moment, but all these alarms seemed to indicate that would not be the state of affairs for long. Vince took a hold of the controls. The nose of the plane dipped. Vince pulled the controls back and the plane went higher into the air. 

Vince tried to see through the windshield but it was spidered and cracked and the hole wasn’t big enough to see through properly. 

Then all of the electronics died. All of the blaring, blatting, and bleeping was done and all that remained was the sound of the wind and the creaking of the rapidly dropping metal frame. 

Xxx

Howard woke to an insistent tugging on his arm. He tried to shrug it off, but it wouldn’t stop.

“C’mon Howard,” he heard someone say in the distance. “Please please please wake up.”

Ugh. He felt awful. Why did he feel awful? Howard blinked a few times.

Then a very heavy weight dropped on his chest.

“Oh thank Jagger,” the voice, which he now knew belonged to Vince, said. Vince was sprawled across him. Hugging him. 

“Don’t touch me,” Howard murmured.

Rather than getting off, Vince clung to Howard harder. He buried his face in Howard’s chest. Was he...crying?

That woke Howard up. He looked at their surroundings for the first time and remembered where he was. Or where he was supposed to be.

They were flying. To the gig. But he was not in the plane. He was outside. He was in the jungle. In the jungle. What was going on?

Howard tried to sit up and groaned. Overcome with a wave of vertigo. He hurt all over.

“Vince. What’s going on?”

Vince cried even harder, still not lifting his face from Howard’s chest. Vince patted his hair, but there was something wet and sticky in Vince’s hair. Howard lifted his hand and looked at it. Blood.

“I was so scared,” Vince sobbed, his voice muffled. “You were asleep and Rex was unconscious or dead and I was all alone and and and-I’m sorry Howard. You were right. We shouldn’t have flown and it’s all my fault. And now we’re in the middle of nowhere and-”

“Woah. Hey there little man. Panicking is supposed to be my job right?” Howard attempted a little smile that mostly just hurt. 

Vince finally pulled himself away from Howard and Howard saw his face for the first time since the sleeping pill had kicked in that morning. Vince had a large gash on his forehead, a black eye, and it looked like his nose may have been broken (yet again).

In an unsteady voice Vince told Howard the story of what happened. Waking up to find Rex on the floor. How the electrical gave out. How he had managed to pull them up out of the dive, but couldn’t land properly. How he’d pulled Howard from the wreckage. 

“You’re bloody heavy,” Vince said.

He said that he climbed back into the wreckage to find Rex, but that the plane was empty. He’d searched the area to try and find him but he must have fallen out as the plane came apart on impact. As Vince talked Howard couldn’t stop looking at Vince’s hands, they were shaking uncontrollably as he gesticulated wildly the way he always had. 

When Vince was done with his story and had lapsed into silence, Howard reached forward and clasped Vince’s hands in his own. They were cold and the shaking was traveling up his hands resulting in little tremors all over Vince’s body. 

“Looks like you saved me again little man,” Howard said softly. 

“You mean. You’re not angry with me?”

“Why on earth would I be angry? You saved us all from dying. You pulled my lifeless body from the wreckage.”

“But it was all my fault. I’m the one who insisted on us flyin’ and-”

Sometimes he really feared for the state of their relationship. He would think everything was fine, that he and Vince were getting along tremendously and he would find out days later that Vince thought he was mad at him. All because Howard had not shown the proper level of enthusiasm for one of his fashion creations or because Howard wasn’t in the mood to answer a thousand and one inane questions. 

“Vince. There’s no way you could have known this was going to happen.”

“You did.”

“It was the only way to get to the gig. It was our last shot we had to try.”

Damn. The gig. Well. The Boosh was over. This had been their last chance. The Music Establishment (an actual guy with a desk and a cigar and a brass name plaque that said Music Establishment on it) had said they’d be done if they didn’t make it to this gig. The Music Establishment (and how did one become the personification of the Music Establishment, and were there other establishments? Was there a grand overarching establishment figure? Did he get his cigars from Cuba?) said it didn’t matter if they were abducted by aliens (again), turned into lobsters (again), got kidnapped by a serial killer and placed in a life sized dollhouse (again) or got a flat tire (again). If they missed the gig, they would never play music again. The Establishment would see to that. 

It was almost nightfall. Howard found it hard to believe that it had been only this morning they were leaving the flat. Now they were in the middle of the jungle. Stranded.

Vince helped Howard to his feet. After the effects of the sleeping pill had worn off Howard felt surprisingly okay. Not really very sore. He figured that the sleeping pill had kept him from tensing up on impact. Vince was not so lucky. He was wound so tight he could barely turn his head and after the struggle to get Howard to his feet his knees turned to jelly and he sat down with a hard “oof.” Howard tried to help him stand but he just couldn’t. He was too sore.

After having a frank conversation with himself about the situation they found themselves in and the realities of survival Howard finally psyched himself up enough to move past his fear of touch. At least for the time being. He picked Vince up bridal style and carried him to a copse of trees that grew close enough together to offer some shelter from the elements. 

Howard thought he’d never fall asleep. That he’d be too keyed up, and he had just woken from a 6 hour nap, but the stress overwhelmed them both and almost as soon as he had Vince settled, he fell asleep.

The next morning, for the second time in a row, he awoke to Vince clinging to him. He ran his fingers through Vince’s hair, now stiff and stringy with blood. Fear surged through Howard. Vince had a head injury. And he’d let him sleep. What if he was concussed? What if he never woke up? 

Howard allayed these fears by poking Vince hard in the side to wake him up.

“Ow! What?” Vince murmured.

“How’s your head?”

“Terrible. How’s yours?” Vince brushed his hair away from his face. The black eye was even worse today and his nose was more swollen. 

“Been better.”

Vince slowly sat up. He rolled his head back and forth, trying to loosen his neck, it was still stiff, but a bit better. He climbed to his feet, very slowly like the old man he said he would never be, and limped over to a small stream that burbled away a few feet from their place under the trees. 

He looked down into the water and shrieked. 

Howard shot to his feet. “What, what is it?”

“I look hideous! Oh. I never wanted you to see me this way again. Not after-”

Vince cut himself off. Howard knew how he was going to finish the sentence. He didn’t want Howard to see him this way again, not after the first time Vince had broken his nose, amongst other bones. When those kids sent him to the hospital. He knew Vince still had nightmares about it sometimes and also knew that Vince categorically refused to talk about it. Howard didn’t think the kids had meant for it to go so far. But then he thought back to Vince lying in that hospital bed, 14 years old and tall and gawky, with his face smashed and his leg bristling with pins and rods, and he didn’t give a toss  _ what  _ those kids meant. 

_ The other boys at the care home had never cared for Vince much. Calling him “Girlyboy” which he’d never really understood as an insult as it was precisely what he was going for, but from their tone he knew it was meant to be one. They slept three to a room at the home. And of all the boys in the home his roommates were the ones who hated him the most, because they had to deal with him the most. They’d watch with sneers as he sat crosslegged on his bed sewing sequins onto a t-shirt. They’d kick open the door to the bathroom while he was putting on his makeup and slap the eyeshadow pallet out of his hands. Once they’d held him down and written some very cruel words on his face in lipstick. A nice one. That he’d saved up for. Not the cheapo stuff he nicked from Boots. Then they’d thrown it in the toilet. Vince cried while he scrubbed at his face with a gray aged flannel.  _

_ Vince never had Howard round his. It was too hard. He didn’t want Howard to know what was going on. He liked that Howard saw him as the sunshine kid. If he brought a friend over then his roommates and the rest of the boys would bully him until he cried, and Howard would see that he wasn’t really the sunshine kid at all. He was just a faker. And a crybaby.  _

_ One day Vince came home from the fabric store, he could sweet talk the old ladies who worked there into giving him scraps of fabric no one else would buy because they were too small to fit patterns. He liked to use them to embellish the hand me downs he wore. He had high hopes for today.  _

_ He walked up the tall rickety staircase to his room and found his roommates going through his things. This in and of itself was not unusual but they were holding his book. The copy of the Jungle Book Bryan had given him right before he dropped him off in this Godforsaken place.  _

_ Vince’s heart dropped, at first he thought he heard it hit the floor it dropped so fast but it was the bags of colorful scraps dropping from his limp hands.  _

_ “Put that back!” He shrieked. He lunged forward with his hands outstretched, not quite sure what he was planning on doing. But he needed that book. It was his favorite. He loved it. And he did not want them to see what he’d slipped between the pages.  _

_ They held it out of his reach. He’d hit a growth spurt and could sometimes get his items back if he was fast enough, but once they started tossing it back and forth he had no chance.  _

_ He knew that he should act like he didn’t care. But cold indifference was just not a setting on Vince Noir’s emotional dial.  _

_ “Why not come and get it Girlyboy?” One of them said, Vince had purposefully forgotten their names as the years had passed, but he remembered what they looked like. This was a stout boy with tight red curls and freckles.  _

_ Vince shoved him.  _

_ Freckles’ best friend had shaggy brown hair and a broken front tooth. Tooth grabbed Vince by the arm. He grabbed Vince’s finger and bent it back. Hard. Vince screamed.  _

_ “Don’t be a little bitch. You started it.” Tooth said to him. There were Dorito crumbs on one corner of his mouth. _

_ Vince thrashed away from him. Then Freckles and Tooth were bouncing him back and forth between them. And he couldn’t stand properly. And the shoving was getting harder, the book laid on the floor forgotten now that they’d found a new plaything.  _

_ Vince lunged, trying to get away, but he did it right at the same time Tooth gave him a big shove from behind in the same direction. That direction happened to be in the same direction as the window.  _

_ Vince tried to stop but his momentum was too strong and he crashed through the window. For a second he felt like he was floating, he felt the air brushing his face almost gently. But he wasn’t floating. He was falling out of a second story window.  _

_ The last thing he saw before waking up in the hospital was a purple flower growing up through a crack in the pavement. Then he crashed to the ground, crushing the flower under his body.  _

_ When Vince didn’t come to school for a few days Howard got worried. He vaguely knew where Vince lived, though he’d never been there. He circled the area, asking if anyone knew Vince Noir. Finally someone said some kid fell out the window. They carted him off and it didn’t look good.  _

_ Howard convinced his mother to help him figure out which hospital Vince was in and set up a visit. Vince wasn’t awake the first few times Howard visited. But Howard would bring him a different bouquet of flowers every time he did. Howard filled Vince’s room with flowers. Because no one else would.  _

_ Vince would sometimes wake up screaming, with his arms shielding his face, trying to brace for impact. It was especially bad anytime there was a big change in their lives. When they’d left school for the Zoo. When they moved into the flat. But eventually he would settle again.  _

_ One of the cardinal rules of their friendship was that they did not talk about The Incident.  _

“It’s not that bad.” Howard said. 

“Yes it is! I look like the Elephant Man. I look like Raging Bull.”

“Jake Lamotta.” Howard’s pedantic side could always be counted on to come out no matter the circumstances.

“Woteva.” 

Vince splashed water on his face. He ruffled his hair and let out another shriek when he felt the blood drying in it. He then dunked his whole head in the stream, and due to his still weakened state almost toppled straight in.

Howard steadied him. “Easy aye? Not worth going into the drink over.”

Xxx

He sort of hated it when Howard did that. He knew Howard was trying to make him feel better. Let him know that he’d always care about him and it didn’t matter what he looked like. But it  _ did  _ matter. He knew that people would make fun if they knew he thought this way, but he considered himself an artist, and his face and body were the canvas. His makeup and clothes the paint. So if Howard said it didn’t matter what he looked like it felt like he was really saying that his art didn’t matter.

Christy. He was all over the shop today. Almost brought up The Incident. Getting all wobbly lipped about his face. He needed to pull it together. And he needed to do it quick. 

Howard found a first aid kit in the wreckage. It had some painkillers he gave to Vince. Then he cleaned the cuts on Vince’s face properly. 

Howard climbed back into the wreckage, to see if there was anything else useful and he brought out some of their luggage as well. Vince wasn’t quite up to climbing around yet so he instead surveyed the area, trying to loosen up his stiff limbs and see if there was any food. 

Things were starting to look familiar. And according to the map Rex had shown him their flight path was set to go over the part of the jungle where Vince had grown up. He’d thought for sure that they would be far off course, but maybe not. 

Vince widened the radius as he walked, yes certain landmarks were looking quite familiar. The stream he’d almost fallen into, widened a few miles away and eventually turned into a waterfall, his favorite place in the jungle. He could see a hill in the distance, one he remembered quite vividly as he had almost been overtaken by the Monkey King and his monkey cronies, losing momentum by the moment as he struggled to reach the top. 

As he walked in the jungle he calmed down. It was actually sort of exciting. His old stomping grounds. Things were so different in the jungle. Clearer. Cleaner. You had to be on your toes. 

When he’d first left the jungle he’d been an intense little kid. Stared a lot. High strung. After a couple years he’d finally relaxed a bit, didn’t do a threat assessment on everyone in the vicinity the way he’d needed to with the animals.Much to his detriment as it turned out. If he’d been fresh from the jungle The Incident never would have happened. He would have been able to smell the threat, taste it in the air, but he’d gone soft. For a long time after that he’d vowed he’d never be soft again. It had taken a lot of introspection, which was not Vince’s forte to begin with, to realize that soft wasn’t bad. And that just because there were bad people in the world didn’t mean that he had to treat everyone like a threat. So over time he’d softened again. Relaxing. Letting his guard down. Letting people in. Especially Howard. But he could feel himself slipping back into jungle mode, part of it was the crash, part of it was just being back amongst the trees. Smelling the green stench of jungle air so thick it was ropey. Hearing the chittering of birds and the movements of larger animals. 

His ability to talk to animals wasn’t just some magical gift. It was a matter of survival. As a child he’d befriended birds because they made the best lookouts. He’d befriended leopards and bears because they would keep him safe when Bryan was away. Bryan was almost always away. 

Xxx 

Howard climbed back out of the wreckage, hauling a flare gun he’d found and another of Vince’s bags.

He looked around and didn’t see Vince anywhere.

“Vince! Where’d you go?” He called.

Vince came back into view. 

“Just checking things out, stretchin out my legs. They’re feelin’ a lot better,” Vince said. “I think I know where we need to go next.”

“Vince, I think we should stay with the plane. When Howard Moon goes missing, rescue planes are sure to follow.”

“We can come back, no one is even going to know we’re missing for a few days. You know there was no reception where we were going. Too remote. Come on. There’s something I want to show you.” 

Howard had never seen Vince like this. Dialled in. Keyed up. Usually Vince was eight miles high. Lost in the clouds. Never touching ground. Right now, though, his feet were firmly planted. His eyes were piercing. Excited but not exuberant.

“Just follow me, I know the area,” Vince said. Then he crept through the trees.

Howard followed. Not wanting to be left behind.

After a couple hours of walking Howard was starting to regret following Vince into the jungle without a map or a compass or a plan that he was aware of, but he was just so taken aback by this different Vince. He’d followed without his usual pushback. Now they were probably lost.

“Vince. Maybe we should-”

“Shh.” 

Vince never shushed him. That was absolutely not their dynamic. Howard was about to say something to that effect when Vince froze and cocked his head to the side. 

“What-” 

“Shh! Honestly Howard.”

Howard shushed, but they would be discussing this later. It was obvious their scripts had been switched in the crash. 

After a couple more moments Vince nodded to himself and started moving again as if nothing had happened.

“What was that all about?” Howard asked. 

“There was a panther nearby. Had to make sure he didn’t see or hear us. Can’t do much about the smell, luckily there’s a wounded water buffalo nearby, heard some vultures talking about it. That’s certainly a better prospect than us.”

They kept moving. Howard didn’t think he’d ever heard Vince be quiet for this long.

Then they emerged into a little clearing with one sturdy tree in the center with a tree house made of bus tickets. 

It looked abandoned. The bus tickets were waterlogged and starting to fall apart. The whole thing seemed to sag.

Vince whirled around to face Howard. He had a big grin on his face. Much to Howard’s relief. Jungle Vince was a lot to take in. And if he was being completely honest a bit scary. And if he was being even more completely honest dead sexy in a way he would have to explore more when they weren’t in a life or death situation. He was glad to have happy smiley Vince back. 

Vince ran until he was standing right under the treehouse. He cupped his hands around his mouth. He let out a call that did not sound human. It sort of sounded like a bunch of animal calls all at once. 

Howard approached slowly. He seriously doubted the treehouse was structurally sound and was fairly certain it was going to come down on their heads at any moment, but he gathered his nerve and stood next to Vince, accepting whatever hand fate dealt him, even that of being crushed and suffocated by soggy bus tickets.

Vince smiled. He made the call again.

“What is that?” Howard asked.

“Sometimes Bryan would take me on tour with him for a while. Then he’d get tired of me and drop me back here. This was how I signalled all my friends I was back.”

Vince looked from one side of the clearing to the other.

Xxx

He knew it was stupid. He knew most of them would be gone. Jahooli would certainly be gone. Kaluni was on his way out even before Vince left for the “world of man” as Bryan called it. But he’d thought perhaps Slim the crocodile was still around and macaws had quite long life spans so he thought a few of them might still be alive. Everything was quiet. 

He told himself that he shouldn’t set himself up for disappointment like that. He only had himself to blame for the lump in his throat. He always got his hopes up too high. It was the painful side of being an optimist. Sometimes it was exhausting getting back up with a smile after being socked in the jaw. 

Vince sniffed, then smiled at Howard. “Guess no one’s home.” He jammed his hands in his pockets. 

Xxx

There was nothing Howard hated more than seeing Vince sad.

Oh dear lord. Howard was going to have to tempt fate further, building codes be damned. He knew what he had to do. What he had to say. 

“Well, Howard asked, “Are you gonna show me around?”

Vince gaped at him. “Wot?”

“It’s customary that the first time your friend visits your childhood home you give a tour.”

“Really?”

“Indeed. As a child my grandmother gave me an etiquette book and there was an entire chapter dedicated to friend etiquette. This was rule 1273 I believe.”

“What was rule 1272?” Vince asked, grinning that cheeky grin.

“Always let your guest pick the movie on movie night.”

“Wot. You don’ follow that. Anytime I came over when we was kids, you never let me pick the movie.”

“Well, not all the rules were winners. Some were strange. Some were a bit...unnatural.” Howard had a haunted look in his eye. Then he snapped out of it. “In any case, I’d like to see your home. If you’d show it to me.”

Vince’s smile took over the entire bottom half of his face. It would have looked horrifying if it wasn’t so sweet. 

Another thought to address when they weren’t in a life or death situation. He was assembling quite a collection. 

Vince climbed the tree as easily as if he had last done it yesterday instead of twenty years ago, the long walk had loosened his muscles, and the painkillers hadn’t hurt either. He hung upside down from a tree branch as he instructed Howard on where to place his feet as he climbed the tree. His shirt hung down, exposing his fish white belly with the dusting of dark hair. His hair hung down and with the sunlight filtering through it Howard could see just the tiniest glint of blond where he hadn’t dyed his roots recently. 

Finally Howard made it the branch that led to the entrance of the treehouse. Vince swung back up onto his branch and followed after Howard. Giving him a cheeky (pun intended) slap on the ass before Howard entered the house.

Howard turned around and glared at him, but he was smiling underneath it, try as he might to keep it under wraps. Vince raised his hands in mock innocence. 

“What? I was just trying to give ya’ a boost.”

“Cop a feel more like. Howard Moon is not a cheap hussy you can feel up as you please.” 

This earned him another slap on the ass. 

Then they were standing in Vince’s childhood home. The interior was a tropical paradise gone to rot.

Xxx

It had give Vince a little thrill when Howard called the treehouse his “childhood home.” 

He’d dreamt of showing Howard this place when he was small. Since he’d never wanted to show him the care home. He’d introduce Howard to Jahooli and the rest. He had described the treehouse to Howard a thousand times. The large strings of feathers hanging from the ceiling. The cool green vines that overran the floor. His bed of soft sweet smelling grass and the flowers dripping from every available surface. He’d show him his favorite place for cliff diving. Howard would refuse to jump, but then Vince would push him in and then they’d swim in the clear blue water. Maybe swim to the waterfall with the soft mossy cave behind it. He’d liked to nap there. In the spring purple flowers bloomed in the cave that smelled the way Vince imagined moonlight would smell. If it could. When he was 11 he’d even drawn a picture of himself and Howard sitting in the cave together. Kissing. It had taken him an hour to draw. Blushing and smiling and giggling to himself the whole time. When he’d finished it he’d hidden it in the copy of the Jungle Book Bryan had given him before leaving him at the care home. He would take it out from time to time, always when he was alone. 

But it was all different. All wrong. His friends were gone. The flowers were dead and rotting. The strings of feathers were ragged and dirty. The vines had overrun the house, choking off all sunlight. 

Vince swallowed, then propped up the corners of his mouth. It was fine. He’d known Bryan had left years ago. Did he really expect it to be the exact same? Sometimes he thought Howard was right. He really was just a tall child. 

He put on a tour guide voice, a joke always made everything better. “And to your left you’ll see the guest ballroom and the conservatory.”

Howard raised his hand.

“Please save all questions until the end of the tour sir.” 

Howard adopted a nasally and pedantic voice. “Uh, this isn’t so much a question as a comment?” 

Vince gestured. “Let’s have it then.”

“I want to see the childhood bedroom of Vince Noir, RocknRoll Star.”

“Why’s that. You some sort of sex pest? We don’t put up with that sort of tosh round here. Let me assure you.”

“No. I just wanted to see where the biggest titbox on the continent grew up,” Howard said with his vulpine grin.

“The biggest. Surely not. I heard he regularly associates with a great northern berk who clearly deserves the title far more.” 

They batted lazy insults back and forth in their respective personas until they were laughing too hard to talk. Then all it would take to send them giggling again was Vince saying “No flashes please” or Howard posing awkwardly in front of inanimate objects as if he was taking a bad tourist photo. The sort of nonsense that only develops when riffing with your best mate. 

Finally Vince led Howard to his bedroom. One wall was dedicated to a mural Howard assumed Vince had painted. The wall was painted black with neon pink and green stars. Howard ran his fingers over one of the stars. He could feel the little ridges from Vince’s brushstrokes all those years ago. The stars formed the constellation of Orion in the middle. 

Vince flopped down where his bed had once been, looking up through the skylight. Howard would have called it a hole in the ceiling. 

He’d laid here so many nights, staring up at the stars. He had a good view of Orion. When Vince found himself looking back on his time in the jungle he couldn’t get the notion out of his head that he’d laid in this very spot and dreamt of Howard before he ever met him. Howard was the first person Vince met that he wasn’t afraid of. Because he felt like he knew him already. Had formed him in the stars. While he was staring at Orion. He knew it was impossible, but it felt so real. He knew that Howard would just say he was painting over his real memories, mixing them all together in his mind tank, but that felt too easy to be true. 

“This is actually quite lovely,” Howard said. He kept running his fingers along the wall. 

This was high praise coming from Howard. Over the years Vince had learned to add about 6 notches of enthusiasm for everything Howard said to get at how he really felt behind all the northerness. 

“Can I take you somewhere?” Vince asked.

“You’ve already taken me somewhere,” Howard pointed out.

Vince rolled his eyes.

“Oh alright,” Howard said.

They climbed back out of the tree. Vince led Howard through the trees until they reached Vince’s favorite cliff diving spot. When he was little he would spend hours jumping into the clear blue water below, then running back up and jumping again. It was the perfect spot. No rocks close by. The water was deep, but not too deep, and of course there was the secret spot behind the waterfall.

“This was my favorite spot in the whole jungle,” Vince said. 

“Lovely. Lovely. Lovely view.” Howard crept to the edge to look into the water below, whipping his head back to make sure Vince didn’t push him in. He then backed away carefully.

Vince shucked off his shirt. Then started working his drainpipes down his legs. Howard turned beet red.

“What are you doing?” Howard squawked.

“I’m goin’ in. And so are you.”

Vince poked his tongue between his teeth and widened his eyes, shifting his look to deranged sex lunatic. He stuck his arms out in front of him, curling his fingers. “Let’s get you out them togs.” He said in a heavy cockney accent. 

Howard backed away. “No. No sir. I shall not be participating. There could be leeches. I could hit the water wrong and become paralyzed.”

“Thought you was a man of action.” Vince said, dropping the maniac act and instead went for pouting puppy. The big guns. 

Xxx

Ooooh. He was good. Look at him. So proud of himself. He thinks he can play Howard Moon like a fiddle. Well, Howard Moon is no one’s fool. And certainly not Vince Noir’s. 

Vince gazed up at him, how did he always seem to get smaller and cuter when he wanted something? 

Howard let out a long sigh and pulled his shirt up over his head. 

Once they were both down to just their pants Vince showed him where they would jump from. Howard nodded along, knowing all the while that he was absolutely not going to jump. He would meet Vince at the bottom. 

Xxx

Howard thought he was being so clever. Playing along with Vince’s instructions. Thinking he’d just meet Vince at the bottom. Vince could read what was going on behind those belt hole eyes as easily as if they were the size of saucers.

Xxx

Vince finished up his little speech with “you got all that?”

Hoard nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“Good.” Vince planted his hands on Howard’s chest and shoved him off the cliff into the water. 

Howard screamed as he plummeted through the air, pinwheeling his arms and legs like a cartoon character. The rushing air over his face carried to him the smell of the water below. It calmed him a bit and by the time he hit the water he was smiling.

Xxx

Vince waited for Howard’s head to emerge from the water. Howard breached like a whale, whipping his brown curls off his face.

“I’m gonna kill you!” Howard screamed.

Vince leapt into the air, he always felt like he floated for a second before gravity took hold and he fell to the water below. He laughed the whole way down. 

For once it was just as he remembered. Plunging through the sunbaked surface of the water to the dank and cool depths underneath, his toes going achy from the cold below, then he shot to the surface, laughing. He floated on his back, soaking in the sunlight. 

They paddled around a bit. Howard set off a dunking war that would reach an uneasy truce only to be ignited again moments later. 

Vince ran up to the top of the cliff to jump in a few more times. Howard floated on his back and watched.

Xxx

Vince swam over to Howard. He dipped his mouth and nose under the surface of the water, they looked disjointed from his intense staring eyes. His black hair that absorbed the light was already drying at the crown but the ends floated in inky swirls around his shoulders. He looked oddly shy. Like he had a question but wasn’t sure how to ask it. Finally he straightened up.

“Can I take you somewhere?” He said.

“You’ve already taken me somewhere.” Howard said, the phrase already taking on the mythological feel of a new inside joke.

But Vince didn’t roll his eyes. He didn’t giggle. He just stuck out his hand. 

Howard took it. 

Vince led Howard to the waterfall. He could have easily just pointed, it was pretty obvious where they were going. But he didn’t. He held Howard’s hands as they half swam half walked to the waterfall. 

They got close enough to the waterfall for the mist to bead on their faces. Vince turned to Howard.

“Take a deep breath and don’t let go of my hand.” 

Howard took a deep breath. He didn’t let go of Vince’s hand. 

Vince pulled them under the waterfall, they swam a few feet past the point of impact, then they surfaced. 

Xxx

The sunlight turned to stained glass with the falling water. They were in a little cavern. Vince swam ahead and pulled himself onto a soft mossy ridge right next to the waterfall. He crouched down and pulled Howard onto the rock. The walls dripped with purple flowers that smelled cold and sweet. 

“This is beautiful Vince,” Howard said. 

He saw a blush bloom across Vince’s face.

Xxx

“I always wanted to bring you here.” Vince said. For once he didn’t add a silly little qualifier or a nervous giggle or a joke that would offset the moment of vulnerability. Not here. Not after all this time. 

“Really?” Howard asked. His voice sounded strange. Thick.

Vince nodded. Here was the moment. Here was where he had to be brave. 

“I, um-I wanted to-” 

He couldn’t do it. It was too much. Howard would say no. Then he’d get angry with him. And they’d been having such a nice day. He’d ruin it if he-

He had to try. He had to try just once. If there was ever a chance. It would happen here. With the scent of moonlight in the air. With the crash of the waterfall. 

Vince took a steadying breath.

“I wanted to kiss you. Here. I. Um. I always thought this spot was well romantic.”

Silence. 

He’d ruined everything. He knew it. Oh he just knew it. A little harmless flirting was alright, but no one wanted to see true sentiment from Vince Noir. Their nice day was over. He’d made Howard uncomfortable and-

“It is,” Howard said.

Vince’s eyes widened. He looked at Howard. “What?”

“It is very romantic here.”

Hope. A burning ball of light in his chest, expanding by the moment. The wonderful part of being an optimist. 

“Yeah?”

“Oh yes. Yes, sir.”

“Then...can I…” Vince had given all he could. He couldn’t say the last word. Could not ask that question. All the hope in the world couldn’t light him back up if the answer was no.

Howard saved him by saying, “Yes, I think you better.”

Vince lunged forward and pressed his lips to Howard’s before he had time to consider the possibility that he’d had an auditory hallucination and Howard hadn’t actually said anything. Then Howard was kissing him back and the thought was banished from his mind. 

Xxx

Vince’s skin was cold from the water. His mouth warm and inviting. In the dimness of the cave his blue eyes were almost black. He laughed against Howard’s skin and it sent sweet vibrations straight to his heart. 

Howard’s skin racked up with goosebumps. He trailed his fingers down Vince’s shoulders and felt he had them as well.

Strands of Vince’s wet hair plastered themselves to Howard’s face and cheeks, gripping his face even when Vince pulled back. 

Howard had to kiss him carefully, so he didn’t bump Vince’s broken nose, though every once in a while they’d get too excited and clash together, then Howard would softly kiss Vince’s nose in apology. 

Xxx

Vince tasted the clear blue lake on Howard’s skin. He traced his hands across the sturdy planes of Howard’s shoulders, causing drips to gather and fall down Howard’s back. 

Howard gently leaned him back then laid down on top of him, warming his from top to toes.

The squishy moss on the rocks tickled his back, and Howard’s mustache tickled his lips. 

After a couple hours of making out and heavy petting, Howard leaned against the rock wall of the cave, cushioned by flowers and moss. Vince laid on his side with his head in Howard’s lap. Howard idly played with his hair. He plucked a bloom from the cave wall and tucked it behind Vince’s ear. They watched the water crash onto the rocks and the sunlight turn from gold to pink to squashed orange to glittering purple. 

“We better get back to the treehouse.” Vince said. 

Howard nodded.

They went back to the treehouse. Vince gathered some fresh sweet smelling grass for their bed.

Howard built them a campfire. They sat leaned against each other, watching the sparks spiral up into the night sky until they became stars. 

Vince kept falling asleep on Howard’s shoulder. But then he’d stubbornly wake up again, blinking into the smoke. “Smoke follows the beauty” Howard’s grandmother had always said. She was right. Anytime Vince was near a fire, the smoke would seek him out.

Xxx

If he went to sleep the day would be over. He never wanted it to be over.

“Come on little man. Time to sleep.”

“I’m not even tired.”

“That would be a lot more convincing if you’d opened your eyes. Come on. Up you get. I can see what you are planning. And I am not carrying you up a tree.” 

They settled into the bed Vince had prepared for them. It was warm and soft. He could see the stars. There were more than you could possibly imagine.

He fell asleep with his eyes on Howard. Staring at Orion. 

The next day they hiked back to the plane. They gathered some essentials. Somehow Howard ended up carrying several of Vince’s bags as well as his own. Vince always claimed he was still sore from the wreck until it was time to do something fun like swim or climb a tree.

They figured they might as well get comfortable while they awaited rescue. 

A couple days later they heard the mighty WHOP-WHOP-WHOP of a helicopter. 

Howard fumbled around with the flare gun and nearly shot himself in the face with it before Vince grabbed it from him and shot it into the air. Orange smoke trailed from the flare like a giant arrow pointing toward the treehouse.

The helicopter touched down in the clearing. Vince an dHoward climbed down form the treehouse. 

From the helicopter jumped out none other than Rex Moose. The cuts on his face were still a bit gnarly but besides that he looked none the worse for wear.

“Rex!” Vince said. “What you doin’ here? I looked all over for ya.” 

“Well, when I woke up I tangled up in the branches of this gigantic tree. It was so tall I could see for miles. I spotted the village we were set to land in. Started hikin’ that way, hopin’ I’d find you lads on the way. Took me a bit, but I finally reached the village. Wonderful people. They let me use the satellite phone and I called in some favors to get this chopper. Started searchin’ the ara for ya.”

“I’m so sorry about your plane Rex.” Howard said.

“What happened?” Vince asked. "When I woke up stuff was smokin’ there was a great hole in the glass."

“Hit a bird. If you can believe that. A diamond beaked ladyfir. Tough buggers. A pilot's worst nightmare those birds. She jammed up my propeller, broke my windshield, socked me right on the knockout button.” Rex tapped his jaw. “Then she musta flown out the hole again. Vindictive bastards those birds are.”

They loaded into the helicopter. And were off.

Howard glanced at the direction they were heading. “Isn’t home that way?” He pointed back behind them.

“You still wanna go to the gig don’t ya? Gary made it sound pretty damn important.

The gig was a smashing success. And the Music Establishment allowed the Boosh to carry on much as they always had. Sporadically and with varying degrees of success. 

After the time they spent together in Vince’s jungle home, Vince’s hopes were as high as they’d ever been, but he knew things like this were delicate and he was scared that the beautiful thing blooming between himself and Howard would be crushed once they left the jungle.

But his high hopes were justified. And even though the sky was always overcast and the streetlights blotted out the stars and he was inside with no skylight (or hole in the roof) Vince still went to sleep every night staring at Orion. 

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here we are on day 3 and I'm already behid on Fictober. This was a lot longer than I planned and it's a bit shaggy, but it was a lot of fun. Hope you like it!


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